


Writober - Insomnia - Red List

by sacredcatrising



Series: Writober 2018 [3]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst, Fire, Gen, Introspection, Jenova Project, Madness, Nibelheim, Pre-Nibelheim Incident, Writober, ffVII - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 19:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16203953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sacredcatrising/pseuds/sacredcatrising
Summary: "Back and forth, while the night urges on. On the floor my boots dug a groove, in my ears I hear loud the pounding of my heart.Thump, thump, thump.I turn when I reach the end of the room.Thump, thump, thump.And I backtrack.My eyes are watering, my hands are trembling, but I can’t stop."





	Writober - Insomnia - Red List

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Writober - Insomnia - Red List](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/422393) by ChiiCat92. 



> Day 3 of our Writober!  
> As usual, the story doesn't belong to me, I'm a humble translator  
> If you like the story, please thank my amazing girlfriend and let her know I good she is!  
> (Also, sorry I'm very slow, but we'll get there ♥)

**_03/10/2018_ **

 

**_Insomnia_ **

****

Back and forth, while the night urges on. On the floor my boots dug a groove, in my ears I hear loud the pounding of my heart.

 _Thump, thump, thump_.

I turn when I reach the end of the room.

_Thump, thump, thump._

And I backtrack.

My eyes are watering, my hands are trembling, but I can’t _stop_.

Pages over pages, documents over documents, words over words: the letters, because of my clouded vision, dance all around giving me answers to question I didn’t know I had to wonder.

 _Why_?

« Jenova... »

My mother’s name is everywhere, written in bold on folders full of papers, little at the bottom of documents, on charcoal drafts.

Jenova, Jenova, Jenova.

My mother, who died to give me life.

 _A lie_.

I can feel a burning prod piercing my mind. The pain is dreadful and for a moment I sway on unstable legs.

I hear the thud of the books that have fallen down the shelf, I must have hit it grabbing for a handhold, a handhold not to fall into the abyss.

The books on the ground look like corpses for a moment, white and swollen, left to rot there.

_I’m not a monster._

A quick and betrayer thought. When did it get in my mind, when did I started to think it?

Before my eyes I can see again those creatures in the pods, infused with mako, created by the same scientists that created _me_.

_I’m not a monster._

What was it, what was in Zack’s eyes?

Fear, disgust, horror?

I can’t forget the sight of those bodies, deformed, wrong.

Abominations.

I can hear myself let out a chuckle. Incredulous, frustrated.

« Mother. » I find myself whispering.

All I am, all I have.

 _False_.

Genesis, Angeal.

 _Lost_.

My life, my trainings, my honor.

 _Madness_.

I can’t be what _they_ say I am.

With a growl that I barely restrain, I knock over one of the shelves.

White pages ruffle on soft wings, a little thud, then silence.

That name again, my mother’s name, and then a series of datas, the record of an entire life, typed by unknown fingers while I was still a child, while I learned to wield a weapon, while I became a man.

_I’m not a monster._

The pain comes back, stronger, more burning, I feel fire and flames running through my veins, walking on my bones, consuming me from the inside.

Nothing survives the fire, nothing can arise from it. Inside me there’s just ashes.

_If I have to burn, they will burn with me._

The emptied shelves are like empty eye sockets, staring at me, but they can’t judge me. I don’t know when I hurled all the books, I don’t know when the madness obscured my senses and let me make a mess in that library.

« Are you still there, mother? » I whisper, shaken by a shiver. Above, from a tiny window, I glimpse the corner of a black sky full of stars. « Are you still in that building? Are they keeping you captive? »

Under my boots the pages of the books crack like dead leaves.

« Who am I, mother? »

Replying, just silence.

But I don’t need it, I don’t need her to tell me, I don’t need _anyone_ to tell me.

« I know what I am. »

The first and only match I lit exhales in the air a soft scent of wood and smoke.

The truth burns marvelously, it catches fire in an instant, it stops existing in a sizzle shining red, yellow, orange. I can hear the murmur of a thousand  warm tongues whispering at my ear, and I know that no one beside me is gonna listen.

« They took this world from you, mother. » the fire slowly ignites the floor full of paper, runs on the shelves, lighting the sleepless night as bright as day. « I’m gonna give you back what has always been yours. »

I step on myself as I walk away.

Sephiroth, Sodier First Class is burning, consuming with the evidences of his creation, of his existence.

I’m not him. I’m not a monster.

I’m the chosen one, and this world will end up burning in my flames.


End file.
